


New Teeth

by kurage_hime



Category: Teeth - Hannah Moskowitz
Genre: Future Fic, M/M, Merperson/Human Relationship, Reunions, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-08-30 03:28:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16756795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kurage_hime/pseuds/kurage_hime
Summary: It’s beenyearssince I’ve seen Teeth’s ugly face. He could beanywhere. But whenever I’m passing in sight of the English Channel to and from lectures, I can’t help hoping.





	New Teeth

**Author's Note:**

  * For [opheliahyde](https://archiveofourown.org/users/opheliahyde/gifts).



Well, guess what? I got my wish. I, Rudy Clearwater, got accepted into my first-choice college with a full scholarship, and then I got fucking far away from that fucking island and those fucking magic fish.

Actually, it’s a university, not a college. Institutions of higher education are called “universities,” or “unis” for short, here in England.

I know, right? What was I thinking? I traded one cold, rainy island home for another cold, rainy island home so that I could study…what is it called again?

Oh yeah. Sorry. I remember now.

Marine biology.

I’m such a fucking idiot.

 

* * *

 

He stole a boat from the marina, just like I told him to do. I also told him to sail to England or to France. I don’t know where he decided to go in the end.

It’s been _years_ since I’ve seen Teeth’s ugly face. He could be _anywhere_. But whenever I’m passing in sight of the English Channel to and from lectures, I can’t help hoping.

The old-timers say there are mermaids in these waters. My personal tutor at uni told me once that the “mermaids” are probably just seals following the fishing boats. I figure at least a few of the mermaid sightings might be undergraduates skinny-dipping on a dare during freshers’ week. I may even have been one of those undergraduates myself.

But.  

I’m walking back to my flat after the day’s lectures. I see a flash of silver on the slate gray water, and my heart skips a beat. Unfortunately, it’s just sunlight reflecting off the waves. That’s all it ever is. It’s definitely not the scales of a fishboy’s tail.

I’m such a fucking idiot. Yeah, like I said.

 

* * *

 

As it turns out, I hear him long before I see him. Laughter. Song. Like the shrill sound of the wind blowing in off the Atlantic Ocean.

How did he find me? I don’t know. His dad was an Enki, though, so I guess it’s some magical power he inherited: homing in on idiots who miss him.

“You look different.” Those are the first three words out of his mouth.

“You look different, too,” I say.

It’s true. His hair is much, much longer, to start with, like a girl’s. It drifts in the water like wavy fronds of kelp, and I think it’s past his waist. And he’s healthy, no cuts or blood or bruises—there aren’t any fishermen to hurt him anymore. When he smiles, I see that his teeth have grown back. They are long and sharp again.

New teeth. Huh. Whaddaya know.

He must be eating well. No wonder he looks so good.

“Rudy,” he says.

“ _Teeth_ ,” I say as I leap into the water with my clothes still on, uncaring.

“I missed you,” we say together, in unison, as we embrace.

I crush him against my chest, and I clutch at his shoulder blades. His long, skinny fishtail wraps itself around my legs.

 

* * *

 

How do you have sex with a mermaid? I asked my mom that question once. She was not amused.

I’d had plenty of time to ponder it after everything that happened, and I think I basically decided that you don’t. That instead they just spawn like, well, _fish_.

I was wrong.

I’m glad I was wrong—not gonna lie.

 

* * *

 

We spend as much time as possible together. We catch up. We talk about everything and nothing. We’re best friends again, and soon enough, we become something…something…more.

Teeth still has the boat he stole. Sometimes we lie flat on the deck and let the waves rock us to sleep. He can sleep straight through a storm.

We hug a lot. And we’re always touching each other. It’s kinda like we can’t quite believe this is real. He likes my body hair, the weirdo. I like the delicate webbing between his fingers, and I like his scale-speckled torso.

I’m stroking his belly with the palm of my hand when it happens. The flesh on the underside of his fishtail bulges outward, the scales part, and _it_ pops out.

“It” being a half-hard—and wholly male human—boner.

He’s never learned to be embarrassed. He reaches down and jerks it a few times, smiling, just another piece of our shared pleasure. I knock his hand away and jerk it for him. It’s slick and heavy, thick and warm, and when he comes, he slaps his fins against the deck, and he screams.

I haven’t heard him scream like that since I was living with my family on the island. I’m glad I’m hearing it again under happier circumstances.

After he’s done, he wants to do it to me, too. I let him. It may sound stupid, but I swear to God, it’s the best handjob of my life.

And the kisses are even better.

 

* * *

 

I finish uni with a first in every subject. We celebrate, and because this is a special occasion, I let Teeth bone me.

As it turns out, having sex with a mermaid—or rather a merman, he’s fully grown now, and so am I—is the same as having sex with a man. You can do all the same sorts of things.

Basically.

Except those bite marks on my shoulders and neck aren’t going to look human, and his scales rasp like coarse sandpaper on my ass and the back of my legs as he pounds in and out, in and out, in and out. I’d suggest we do this in the water instead of the boat, except that the water is too damn cold. It would spoil the mood.

We ought to relocate someplace sunny and warm. Yeah, that’d be the ticket.

His cum is like fish milt, and there’s always _a lot_ of it. I feel like I’m getting a sexy enema. I’m jizzing myself less than five seconds later. It’s almost a shame there are no fishgirls for Teeth…but then he wouldn’t be mine, would he?

“What will you do now?” he asks, voice soft.

We’re holding each other close. We don’t need to speak above whispers.

“I dunno. Maybe I’ll apply to grad school.” I should do a PhD in magic fish or something, but I don’t say that.

Teeth frowns. He missed me whenever I had to go to lectures and leave him behind. His arms around me tighten possessively.

“I’d also like to get married, but, um.” I pause dramatically. “I dunno. Do fish get married?”

Teeth’s eyes widen. “Maybe. I know one that might,” he says.

I’m so fucking happy; my heart is ready to fucking explode. I feel like laughing _and_ crying. We kiss.

“I want a tropical honeymoon,” Teeth says, his lips moving against mine.

He can read my mind, I swear.


End file.
